Well, I decided to turn it into a multi-chaptered fic! And thanks to my two reviewers; inissor and onfire1012002!!

Now, little anecdote… I was writing the plotline out for this fic while listening to some music when a Barenaked Ladies tune came up. So, after listening to some BNL, I've decided to name all the chapters after one of their songs. So, ya… that's it I guess. Here you go!

Chapter Two

Thanks That Was Fun

Im thinking that Im aching:
Mistaking lust for love.
Thanks that was fun.
Dont forget, no regrets (cept maybe one)

The music flowed through the apartment slowly and harmoniously as House's expert fingers glided over the keys. His song ended with a few dramatic low notes, and silence took over. As House was taking a sip of beer, there was a knock at his door. He stopped, lowering his bottle. It wasn't until the second knock that he got up and limped his way to the door. He briefly wondered who it could be; of course, it couldn't be Wilson because he had a key. And the person, who ever it was, had obviously waited until he had finished playing his tune before knocking. He opened the door and without giving House time to speak, Chase came in, taking off his shoes and leather coat before turning to face him.

"I was too late." Chase started, once again interrupting House before he had the chance to say anything. "He had to leave strait away. I guess I'll have to wait 'till next time." For a split second, House thought of telling Chase about his father's cancer, but was stopped by Wilson's voice in his head; 'Or you could not tell him, that would be the nice, human, thing to do.' He could really imagine his friend telling him that. Okay this was bad… If he started hearing voices…

"But that's not what I'm here for." Chase continued, looking strait at House, who remained silent but made a face that was clearly inquisitive. "Why did you kiss me?" The Australian finally asked. House cleared his throat and sat on his piano bench, back to the piano. Chase awkwardly looked around and sat on an armchair, facing his boss with an expectant look.

"I," House began, shaking his head slowly, wondering what he could say that would be a sufficient explanation, "uh, well, why not?" Chase laughed nervously, not quite grasping the hint of sarcasm, "So basically… you just kiss people whenever, wherever? Nice… really." House smirked.

"I don't. Listen, what can I say? It's just that it… seemed right. At that moment I mean! Okay – I'm not good at comforting people."

"You kissed me to make me feel better? A hug and a slap on the back would have sufficed!" Chase said incredulously, half at the situation.

"Well, what did you think? That I'm in love with you or something?" Chase stared at him, not realizing House was kidding with him.

"Well, no! I just – I dunno, how'd you want me to know why you did it – I don't – I'm just – not –"

"Quit stammering, you sound like a lovestruck schoolgirl." House interrupted, efficiently shutting Chase's blabbing up. He got up and went and went to the kitchen, leaving his employee sitting there. Chase looked around House's apartment, guessing he was probably the only person to come in here except Wilson. House was suddenly back, holding out a beer for Chase to take.

"Oh, sorry, I don't –"

"Just take it and shut up, Chase."

Chase did as he was told and took a hesitant sip. It wasn't so bad, but he never drinked – he had learned to hate alcohol because of his mother. He was about to thank House anyway, but the cripple was seated back in front of his piano, and he started to play. Chase recognized the tune immediately – Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. House played it wonderfully and Chase watched him in awe until the very end, not even touching his beer once. He's never had much talent in music himself, or any form of art whatsoever, but he loved music. When the song was over, House took a gulp of beer and looked at Chase thoughtfully.

"Did you like it?" He asked him, with a frown.

"Of course! I've never – I mean, it was beautiful! I've never seen it played so perfectly –"

"No. I know you liked the song, I saw that by the mesmerized look on your face; I'm talking about the kiss."

Chase didn't say anything, feeling his face heat up.

"It's a simple question, Chase." House stated impatiently.

"I don't have a simple answer." Chase snapped. He sighed and gulped before saying, "Yeah… I did." House nodded.

"But I'm not gay." Chase spluttered, attempting to make himself clear.

"So this is a one-time thing?" House asked seriously. Chase didn't even stop to think before answering, "No! It's – a, uhh…" Then he hung his head, defeated, and House laughed. Chase looked up at him, confused. "Well I've got my answer," House said, "And so do you; now, I know everything I wanted to know." With that, he finished his beer and went to his room. Chase waited in the living-room, his heart rate double what was normal. House returned, in boxer shorts and looked at him with a sarcastic surprised look.

"You still here?"

Chase frowned. "You never told me to leave."

"Fine, stay here for the night if you really want to." Chase felt himself blush slightly, and House pulled a face, "On the couch, of course." He added, before disappearing into the bathroom and leaving Chase alone with his dilemma. What would House think if he left? He would probably think he was scared, or that he didn't care. What if he stayed? House would think he wanted to sleep with him. Did he? Chase didn't know. Did the fact that he had enjoyed a kiss with House mean he'd enjoy… something else?

Chase shook his head; this was absurd, unreal! House was his boss, for crying out loud! He jumped as the door to the bathroom opened and House came out, "Well, what're you gonna do?"

"I'll stay." Chase said immediately, although his decision had not quite been made. Resisting the temptation to slap himself, or bang his head on some hard surface, he watched House take a blanket out of his wardrobe. "Is that your final answer?" He asked him, handing him the blanket only when Chase nodded.

Then he went back to his room, shutting the door without another word or look.

Chase just sat there for a minute, contemplating the situation he had managed to put himself into. House would surely think he expected something from him now, wouldn't he?

Deciding a good night of sleep would maybe (hopefully) clear some things up in his mind, Chase went to the couch and lay under the blanket he supposed was for when Wilson came over and slept here. He knew this because he often saw the oncologist come in with House in the morning. Chase gasped and sat up. What if – what if someone noticed him come in with House tomorrow morning? He should have driven here… What an idiot he had been to come to House's place on foot! But then again, how could he have known he would be staying the night? It's just that he liked taking walks. And House didn't live that far away from his own apartment. He finally decided he didn't care and lay back down, resting his head on a cushion and falling asleep almost at once.

The smell of coffee woke him. Chase looked up and saw House sitting at the kitchen table. Despite still feeling rather drowsy, he got up and felt a faint strain in his lower back – which was to be expected from sleeping on a couch.

House spotted him and smiled. That was weird. "Right on time, wombat," he said, "Make breakfast now." His boss told him. Chase frowned at him.

"I would have preferred a 'good morning, how are you?'"

"I'd like waffles this morning." House stated, completely ignoring Chase's look of protest. The Aussie abstained himself from another retort; he wanted to sleep at House's again. If making breakfast was the price, well, so be it.

After the waffles, House took a shower and got dressed, returning with clothes for Chase, who took them with a look of incomprehension.

"Come on, don't tell me you were going to come to work with the same clothes as yesterday? It would look fishy." House smirked as Chase raised an eyebrow and he interrupted his intake of breath preceding a phrase, "And don't tell me no one would have noticed! Everyone would have noticed you wearing that horrible mix of patterns and colors for two days strait. And no one will see you're wearing my clothes because I hardly ever wear this… And no one keeps track of what I wear because I pale in comparison to you."

Anything Chase could have said to defend himself having been snatched right out from under his nose, he reluctantly took the pile of clothes and took a brief shower too. It turned out House's clothes rather fit him, except that they were slightly too big, but it was a relief for House to see Chase without so much color.

They went strait to House's car without a word because of the strong wind, and once inside, they didn't talk either. House didn't question Chase's decision to ride with him, seeing there was no other car anywhere.

Exactly as Chase had thought, the moment they walked into Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, at least three people looked at House, then at Chase, a frown forming on their forehead. What didn't help was House walking over to the reception desk, saying; "Seven fifteen, doctors House and Chase sign in." The nurse behind the counter looked up at Chase with a surprised look, but wrote the information down without question.

House walked in the conference room first, preceded closely by Chase who went to his seat immediately, ignoring the surprised look he got from Foreman and Cameron. Before any of the two said anything, House served himself a coffee and shot a look at Chase, silently asking if he wanted one. Chase shook his head and House shrugged, turning to his other ducklings, who were still looking at the Australian, and said; "Case?"

Foreman turned to look at his boss and held out a red file, "Yeah. 32 year old female, CEO of Sonyo Cosmetics, came in with paralysis in her leg. She experienced pain during a business meeting." House hummed as he read the file, tapping his cane on the ground.

"Dr. House, I realize the chances may be very slim, but I'm sure you recognize she may have what you had; a clot in her thigh." Cameron said, standing up and looking at Foreman and Chase, arms crossed.

"That's a bit of a long shot isn't it?" The Australian asked, clearly not agreeing.

"What about a discarnation though?" Foreman asked Cameron, who went to sit down next to Chase; "I dunno, Eric, she would have pain elsewhere wouldn't she?" House frowned at her and Chase smirked, while Foreman mumbled; "Yeah… I suppose."

"You're right," Cameron went on, "A clot's also the most deadly. Right, Robert?" House continued to frown at Cameron's sudden decision to call her colleagues by their surname. Chase was unbalanced by it too, "Uh… true!" He told her, nodding, "If the clot breaks up… she could stroke and die." He looked at House, who didn't speak, still staring at Cameron, who got up again.

"Dr. House, I believe that they're right, and –"

"Stop talking." House told her seriously, to which Cameron blinked and said, "What?" The cripple sighed and said, pacing around, "You've read one of those negotiating books didn't you? 50 ways to win an argument guide to being a pal. In five seconds, you've just manipulated these two into agreeing with you." Chase and Foreman looked at each other with perplexed faces, "Fellas, this is known as soft positional bargaining." House went back in front of Cameron and smirked; "Not going to work." Then he walked away.

Unfazed, Cameron followed him; "Dr. House are you saying that she doesn't have a clot, or that if she does have a clot, she doesn't need blood thinners and an angiogram?" House glanced at her with a light smile and spoke to his two other ducklings while looking Cameron in the eye; "So put her on blood thinners, and take an angiogram."

Cameron looked quite pleased with herself until House continued, "When that comes back negative, MRI the spine. If that's clean, cut her open and biopsy the leg." Cameron bit her lip. "Excellent suggestion." And House told her: "Read less, more TV."

They all watched him go into his office, and went to work.